


annexus

by moonstruckfool



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Nurmengard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:55:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22142137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonstruckfool/pseuds/moonstruckfool
Summary: Queenie is sent to interrogate a strange prisoner in the dungeons of Nurmengard, and ends up learning much more than she expected to.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22
Collections: Queenie's Birthday 2020 #QueenieBday2020





	annexus

**Author's Note:**

> my submission for the Queenie Bday 2020 event! this has been sitting around in google docs for ages collecting dust and even though im still not really satisfied with it i decided to post it anyway. i recently realised Queenie and Sherlock share the same birthday - january 6th, today (which is also Eddie's birthday, in fact) - that's such an incredible coincidence!

"What are you keeping me for?" 

The prisoner's voice is a rough rasp, but whether from disuse or overuse she cannot tell. The mug of water and stale bread that were given him are both untouched, and she sighs; it's right of him to be wary, but really, he should've known they'd keep him alive for questioning, and if he really was who they thought he was, that Veritaserum wasn't necessary when they had her, or of effect if his strategy was to remain silent and Occlude.

"We'll get to that in a while, Mister…?"

"Wilkes."

His accent is distinctly English, and he does seem to be practising some Occlumency, but she's been honing her skill. He's lying.

"Your real name, sweetheart, don't play games with me. This'll go a lot easier if you tell the truth."

He considers for a second, then relents. "Holmes."

"Mr Holmes, why were you attempting to bypass our wards?"

"I was not aware there were wards. I was following a lead in my investigation that led me here." He pauses. "I have never heard of this Nurmengard Castle. It is not on the maps I have studied."

"It's Unplottable, honey." Honestly, if he's this dense, how on earth did he manage to find them here? She watches as his brow furrows. Has he never heard of Unplotting?

Well, never mind. She's been sent to interrogate him, and that's what she'll do.

"You say you were investigating. What do you know of us?"

"I know that your organisation was responsible for the deaths of Monsieur and Madame Charpentier and their infant son, and the fire at the Père Lachaise cemetery. And of you? I know that you're from New York. You sew your own clothes. You have a sister - you've fallen out. You’re alone, lonely? You've left a lover behind-"

"Mr Holmes, that is enough! You are to answer my questions-"

"And somehow, I think, you are like me," he finishes, his fingers steepled under his chin, a comical attempt to appear dignified, considering the dark rings under his eyes, his matted hair and the tattered mess his clothes have become.

She tries to compose herself. How this man knows so much about her is frightening; perhaps he is some associate of Tina’s? Or a Legilimens, like her?

She pushes away thoughts of her sister. "Mr Holmes, I must ask how you know all of this. Are you an agent of Albus Dumbledore?"

"I have never heard that name in my life. As for how I know, your dress is clearly bespoke and tailored to your frame, and despite the grandeur of this place you seem unused to luxury, prompting the deduction that you have made it yourself-"

"Mr Holmes, are you a Legilimens?" Oh, he could explain away all he liked, he couldn't possibly have noticed all that in such a short time. It takes one to know one, and she knows him.

"I do not know what that is. I am a consulting detective. I invented the job."

This is becoming more and more suspicious. She's confused - is he feigning ignorance? Or does he really not know? Something nags at the back of her mind, and she does not know why but she waves her hand to dismiss the guards, ignoring their protests.

"Vinda said they found no wand on you. Had you lost it?"

"A- a wand?" His façade of collectedness and confidence falters, as does his Occlumency, and she glimpses confusion, fear… and hurt.

People are easiest to read when they're hurting. 

She tries to ignore this and return to the task at hand.

"Yes, a wand."

"So… is that what they used? Is that how the ropes came out of nowhere?" His voice quivers, and she really does feel sorry for him.

She cannot deny it any more. Is this fate, that she keeps happening upon them? Did the others know, and keep him prisoner regardless? Yet, how is it that he appears to practise Legilimency and Occlumency, and has come to know so much about them?

She decides to tell him. One day, they will no longer have to hide. Grindelwald will understand. Perhaps this man may be useful to them, with his sharp intelligence. Perhaps he can be recruited to their cause.

"You're a no-maj, aren't you?" She tries to be gentle. It must be difficult for him.

"What?"

"You're a non-wizard. A Muggle, they call it over there."

"And… are you a wizard?"

"I'm a witch."

"Oh." She can see him, hear him process this. He frowns. "Are you reading my mind? Can wizards - witches, do that?"

He's extremely astute; Grindelwald will appreciate that.

"Yes, it's called Legilimency. I think you do something similar, but you don't call it by that name." Can No-Majs read minds too? Jacob couldn't. She tries not to spiral into thoughts about him. Perhaps it is unique to some, as it is for wizards.

"I don't read minds." He's becoming slightly more self-assured, trying to understand. "What I did just now - I didn't read your mind. I deduced from your clothing, your body language. Your reactions to my observations."

"So you really did notice all that? You weren't lying?" She regards him once more, this time with grudging awe and respect. 

"You're reading my mind. Am I lying?"

"No." She smiles despite herself.

"What do you know of me? How much can you read?" He fixes his eerily penetrating gaze on her.

"You're blocking me out some. I know you're hurting - something in your childhood? A friend? You have feelings you aren't willing to admit. It isn't clear," she says apologetically. "Your accent, and the Occlumency-"

He's been staring at her with a curious expression, and interrupts. "What's Occlumency?"

"It's protecting the mind against penetration. Clearing the mind, focusing, that sort of thing. I don't think you're doing it consciously."

"I think I understand. So this is preventing you from reading me?"

"It isn't complete, but it is hindering me."

"Oh."

"If you're a No-maj detective, what are you doing investigating a wizarding case?" How did he find them out, trace them from Paris all the way here?

"I did not know it had to do with wizards and… magic?" She nods. "All I knew was that a family had died mysteriously, and mere months afterwards there was a strange fire in the cemetery. Blue flames, witnesses reported, and when the local police investigated they found no damage from the blaze. This interested me, so I came from London, did some asking and poking around…" His eyes widen. "Perhaps some of those I asked were wizards."

"Perhaps." It would not be impossible; after all, this man did seem very much like a wizard. It took her five minutes to realise he was not, and few others are gifted with Legilimency.

He seems to remember his cause and sets his jaw, his mind closing to her near completely. "Why did you kill them? The Charpentiers? Being wizards does not excuse you for committing crimes."

This is a question she cannot answer. Multiple excuses come to her mind - they required their home, but could not risk exposing themselves just yet, it was in self-defence, the Charpentiers were known to have anti-wizard sentiments… but she suspects he will know instantly if she is lying. 

"I- I don't know," she admits. "I was not directly involved. It was before I… before he…"

"Recruited you?" he suggests.

"Yes, that."

He leans closer, intrigued. "To what cause were you recruited?"

This is a splendid opportunity, and she seizes it. "We believe that we shouldn't have to hide from the No-Majs. We are all equal, all human. Grindelwald plans to reveal us to the non-magical world."

He nods slowly. "I do not know where I stand on that, as I have only learned of your existence moments ago. I must confess I did not believe that people like you were real. But one thing I do know, is if and when you reveal yourself, it will cause an uproar amongst us… No-Majs, which will include many scientists wanting to do experiments on you, to examine your genetic makeup and find out where your magical ability derives from."

That has not occurred to her, but she supposes it's all right if they're harmless. "Grindelwald won't let them hurt us, if that's what you mean."

He cocks an eyebrow. "Grindelwald is your leader? The head of your organisation?" She nods. "Well, I doubt he can do very much to protect all of you - how many of you are there?" 

She doesn't know, actually. "Less than you. But I think quite a lot."

"I don't know exactly how powerful or magical he is, but I doubt he can protect all of you from very determined geneticists and journalists desperate to make a major breakthrough. And," - he seems to come to a realisation - "I doubt he will do very much to protect us from you."

"Grindelwald does not stand for the mistreatment of No-Majs!" she says hotly. "We are all equal!"

He looks at her with a strange expression, and his slipping mental shields show - she doesn't understand - mirth and pity. "Then I must ask what you have to say for the Charpentiers, and the way I was treated when I happened upon you. It is true that you thought me a wizard, and yet you assaulted, manhandled and confined me. If this is how you treat your kind, what of us?"

"That's unfair. We thought that you were Dumbledore's spy."

"Who is this Dumbledore you keep mentioning?"

"He's… he is the enemy. He's trying to stop Grindelwald."

"Why do you think he does?" She notices his tone has changed, softened. She tries to read him - is he trying to _help_ her? What with? And why?

"I don't know, he thinks we should all stay in hiding, continue being afraid." She realises that he's become the one doing the interrogating - how the tables have turned! Grindelwald will not be pleased. "I'm supposed to be questioning you, and I have gathered what I need. You have no right to poke and pry into my personal life and beliefs." She gets up and summons the guards. "I can order that you be given fewer comforts… take away privileges," she threatens, suddenly hating him.

"But you won't," he replies shortly, a small but no less infuriating smirk spreading across his face.

He's right, the damned man. She huffs and strides out of the cell.


End file.
